Ink Child
by truefaith.truedestiny.truelove
Summary: She wore only her underwear, her body bare before him. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help but stare... this girl was a work of art... literally. Hinata X Sasuke
1. Pretty Paper Angel Twins pt1

**A/n:** Stinking plot bunnies, they've run rabid in my head! Now I have all these new ideas that I simply must let out! -Sigh- I know I'm terrible especially since I've got other stories waiting to be updated. Would you believe me if I said I had writer's block…okay, it's just that I'm lazy. Forgive me please -gives the audience at home a tiny pout and cute tearful puppy dog eyes-

**Disclaimer:** Are you…Are you _**serious**_? Do I look like I own Naruto? Heck no, I wouldn't be on fanfic if I did!…ejits.

INK CHILD

Chapter one: The paper angel twins

_Pretty paper angel girl_

_Pitch black against my page_

_Sitting sadly in a corner;_

_Head bent, down-_

_Frustration lost_

_Pitch black against my page._

"_Why so sad?" I asked with pain,_

"_Pretty paper angel girl"_

_Her head then turned- _

_Her face still black-_

_Pitch black against my page_

"_I hurt, I ache, and I grieve inside,_

_For you tainted me-_

_Before you knew me._

_And now I sit,_

_Blank- Colourless_

_Pitch black against _your_ page."_

!

He was in the kitchen when the first raindrop fell; it seemed Precipitation was at it again. It was an old story his older sister used to tell him when he was younger. A simple story about the three sisters Weather. The first and oldest being Sun, the middle child Wind and the youngest sister named Precipitation.

Sun was the most loved by the people of the earth, as well as her sisters, - she was bright and cheerful; the happiness that radiated off her was so addicting, people adored her presence. Wind, the middle child, was the harshest of the three. Hot-tempered and furious, she flew past the people of the earth, sometimes leaving destruction in her wake. Yet, still her sisters loved her though the people of earth often condemned her for her brutality. Wind would sometimes sweep over the people in a gentle haze to kiss their cheeks gently as if apologizing for her rage. Precipitation, the youngest and the frailest was loved immensely by both her sisters- they protected her from harm, for Precipitation was different from others; her heart was too exceedingly large. So big was her heart that it was more of a burden onto her than a blessing. With her big heart came big responsibilities; she was ladled with the pain of the world…

Precipitation loved to soar into the sky. She loved the elevation it gave her, the elevation form the heaviness that she felt from carrying the pain of others. She would lift her self higher and higher and higher, until she had reached a euphoric height of happiness, before looking down at the earth and then remembering: the wars, the famines, the deaths, the trauma, the sick, the hurt, the homeless and helpless… And then just as quickly as she rose up she came crashing down as she burst in to millions

and millions of tears- each one a sweet searing tear of redemption, of hope, to cleanse the people of their pain. She would then be re-born, with help from her sisters Sun and Wind so that she could cry all over again, to weep with the world in it's hours of sadness.

As simple as the story was, sometimes he liked to believe it more than the scientific explanation for how rain was made- it seemed much more fitting that some beautiful, faceless woman in the sky was crying for the earth, weeping for their transgressions. And as he stared out of his window he could only wonder, _who is Precipitation crying for this time?_

!

The rain was loud, heavy and lashing, each drop accentuated with the rough wind that whirled about. The moon had long since taken refuge behind dark cottony clouds and the dark night formed an even fouler shroud round the world than usual. It was the type of night one would spend snuggled under their covers and Sasuke would too, if he wasn't so damn worried. Worried maybe wasn't the word, paranoid fit the bill more correctly. Sitting on one of the seats in the living room, Sasuke was seated close to the door as he sat staring intently at the phone, waiting for one or both to ring. Dark bags had started to form round his eyes, from lack of sleep… this paranoia had kept him awake for nights on end. He had to keep himself awake… just in case he eventually called.

Suddenly footsteps could be heard coming from upstairs and for a moment his heart leapt, before realization shoved him back down as he realized it was only Kurenai.

He heard her sigh before he saw her step in front of him, her hand resting on the small bump jutting slightly from her stomach. Looking down at him with concerned filled eyes, his step-sister looked almost as tired as he did. Probably even for the same reason.

Sighing again, she bent so that she was at eye level with him. "Sasuke," she started exasperated, "how many times do I have to tell you to just go to bed. You look exhausted _and_ you have school tomorrow- I don't want you dozing off in school again. Iruka gave me an earful, the last time. " Sasuke stared back at her blankly, his eyes void, not betraying his thoughts. His gaze was still firm on the phone. Narrowing her eyes at him, Kurenai continued snappily, "Look Sasuke, go to bed now and get some sleep before I drag your behind up there myself. You can be so stubborn at times….I swear behind that pretty face is a thick head! How many times am I going to have to tell you that Itachi's not coming back... at least not for tonight. Heaven knows when that lame-brained moron is going to actually turn up!" Looking close to tears by the end of her rant, she followed Sasuke's unwavering gaze towards the phone before muttering quietly, venomously, "The least that bastard could do is call…" Sighing once again, she stood up, eyed Sasuke briefly before shaking her hand and leaving the room. She exhaled once more before completely exiting.

Once again it was just Sasuke, the door, the phone and the ever present paranoia that breathed down his neck whenever Itachi strayed away for too long. Kurenai didn't understand ; she thought Itachi was strong enough to cope on his own wherever he was, but Sasuke … Sasuke knew better. Itachi wasn't weak, he was strong both physically and mentally, but he needed someone….He needed someone to depend on and Sasuke was willing to be that person, his older brother had protected him once before and he wanted to return the favour. Sure Itachi wasn't there all the time but he was there when it counted. Sasuke just couldn't sleep he needed to be awake so that when Itachi dialled his number for help he would be able to rush to his rescue. It didn't matter where or how far he was, Sasuke didn't care. All he knew was that whenever Itachi would call on him, he'd be there-pronto. Who knew, maybe when he drifted asleep, Itachi would then be need of his dire assistance. He could not let that happen.

Fighting his own exhaustion, he forced his drooping eyelids to stay open, willing his tiredness to fade. God, how long had it been since he had had a good night's rest. Too long, he thought dazedly as he felt himself slip into unconsciousness, his body tensing before relaxing as the welcome darkness swept over him. He drifted off into a dreamless sleep, his mind blank and peaceful. The ever present insomnia nipping at his heels had wondered off, too tired to care.

It was the ringing of the doorbell that abruptly woke him up. Bringing him back up from the dark depths of his psyche. Startled into alertness, the fog in Sasuke's mind cleared as his heart began to race. _Itachi._

Throwing the cover off of himself, Sasuke all but raced to the door almost tripping over his feet in his attempt to open the door. He couldn't waste time, if the urgent and persistent ringing on the door bell had been any indication , he knew that Itachi needed his help. Swinging the front door open quickly the door swung back violently, it's hinges creaking warningly as if reminding Sasuke of the house's old age. But the aged warnings fell on deaf ears as Sasuke stood stock still as he came face to face with his older brother.

Suddenly a scene flashed before him and played itself within his mind- his older brother was running along with his friends, the scene was slightly blurry, the only vivid image being that of Itachi.. Another group of men and some women were running after them, chasing them down, hell bent on exacting revenge for whatever Itachi and his group had done. Itachi had a phone in his hands and was desperately trying to reach someone, the person didn't answer and after a few more futile attempts Itachi flung his phone away exasperated

The scene rapidly changed and Itachi was suddenly alone his friends had mysteriously disappeared, abandoning him in his hour of need; just as Sasuke had always suspected they would. Itachi was running and Sasuke watched in trepidation as he fell. Recovering quickly Itachi stood to run but he was too late as the rival group surrounded him brandishing weapons that would no doubt kill him.

The leader of the group stood out and sedately walked towards Itachi, fingering the weapon in his hand-a gun. Itachi was as cool as ever it seemed but his calm wavered ever so slightly when his gaze landed on the gun.

"So you thought you Akatsuki scum could get away with it? What, you thought we'd take your attack lying down?" the leader of the group now stood in front of Itachi his voice just barely above a whisper. He appeared lethargic, still fingering the gun in his hand, a serene expression plastered on his face yet a dangerous aura rolled off him in waves. Sasuke inwardly shivered, the guy scared him- ironically the kanji of love was tattooed across his forehead. Then in a quick motion fuelled with rage, the leader raised his gun in his hand and smacked it across Itachi's face. Itachi's head moved to the side from the force but after collecting himself from the shock of it all Itachi turned to gaze at the red headed leader his eyes as stoic and defiant as ever. A thin sliver of red leaked down his face from gash now beside his right eye. The red head sneered before spitting on his face. The defiant look never left Itachi's eye nor the placid expression on his face.

"Bastard, let this be a lesson to you and your team mates, screw with the Sabuku and die, mother fuckers." Turning off the safe guard, the red head teased the trigger before pulling it back completely, glaring at Itachi as he aimed for his heart. "Burn in hell." was the last thing Sasuke heard before the scene drastically changed.

Once again Sasuke was standing by the front door and he was staring at his apathetic sibling.

"Itachi." whispered Sasuke hoarsely his onyx eyes locked with his brother's on crimson red ones. Crimson eyes… blood red just like the liquid that was trickling gently down from Itachi's face. Time stood still as the stared at on another, they were brought back to reality when a loud _bang _exploded around them. Closing his eyes, pained by the sound, Sasuke opened them again only to find Itachi now clutching onto the left side of his side of his chest, his life's liquid oozing through his finger, seeping through his shirt. Itachi nearly toppled his brother over as he fell onto him for support, Itachi then whispered one last thing to his brother.

"I needed you." Sasuke's body tensed as he felt his brother's body go limp in his hold. Eyes wide, body still and tense, Sasuke felt something warm ooze onto him from his brother's dead body. Feeling tears roll down his face, Sasuke crumpled under the weight of Itachi's body; despair and remorse cascading down his body like a torrent waterfall. A dull mix of lost and confusion rammed into him- he had finally failed his own brother…

His body jolted into awareness for what seemed like the second time that night. Pinching himself to make sure he really was awake, Sasuke wiped at the beads of sweat that had formed upon his skin. His lack of sleep mixed with his latest nightmare had put him on an edge- he felt an array of emotions ricochet off the walls of his heart as got up from his seat in the living room and stumbled into the kitchen to get a drink. His throat felt peculiarly dry at the moment. As he gulped down his glass of water. Sasuke tried to rid his mind of the horrid thoughts his imagination had created, and held his bowed head in his hands; this was why he never went to sleep when Itachi left without saying a word .

The doorbell rang. Sasuke felt his breath hitch up and his heart began to hammer in his chest. He pinched his arm again to make sure he was awake -to make sure that this was reality- before he slowly made his way towards the door. Was it really Itachi? A sweaty palm reached for the doorknob and Sasuke braced himself for what he might see, as gory as might be.

He flung the door open and the door hissed in pain, objecting vehemently to its brutal handling. Onyx eyes widened as Sasuke found himself face to face with…a _girl_. Doing a double take Sasuke scrutinized the girl as she watched him with her big round milky eyes.

She wore a grey hood over her head, her indigo bangs falling into her face. She had a pretty yet painfully plain face- no particular trait ,besides her eyes, standing out to him. A grey jacket engulfed her body, it's long sleeves swallowing her arms entirely. Her trousers were also grey and baggy giving her a rather bleak and shapeless appearance. A black backpack hung off her shoulders; it was small and appeared very light. The rain had taken its toll on her and she was sopping wet from head to toe, she shivered every now and again from the cold. Her pale skin coupled with her wet grey attire gave her a ghostly, otherworldly appearance. From what he could tell she was about his age, around fifteen or so.

It was her coughing that broke him out of his trance. Glaring at her he opened his mouth to ask her what the hell she was doing ringing people's doorbells at bloody three o'clock in the morning? But before he could snap at her she spoke.

"Sorry, w-wrong h-house." he didn't know whether it was the cold that made her stutter or not but hearing her soft voice he couldn't help but feel for the kid. Should he invite her in or slam the door in the weird girl's face. The latter seemed the most rational and so grabbing onto the door he made to close it when suddenly he heard footsteps coming from above.

Kurenai came plodding down the stairs, her footsteps heavy and forceful. She stood at the bottom of the staircase hair wild and expression even wilder. "God dammit Sasuke, don't rip the effing door from it's hinges- how many times do I have to tell you that jackass won't-" Kurenai paused when she saw the girl at the door. Pushing Sasuke aside she stared at the girl before pulling her into a warm embrace, after an awkward pregnant pause. Cupping the girl's face in her hands she stared into her milky eyes worriedly as the girl blushed heatedly from the contact.

"Hinata?" Kurenai questioned, "What are you doing here? And this late?" her voice was soft and motherly the polar opposite to how she had addressed Sasuke previously. _Pregnant woman hormones, _Sasuke thought as he simply raised a brow at their intimacy, briefly wondering how they knew one another.

The girl dodged Kurenai's gaze before biting her lip and answering, "Y-you…you said I-I could come to you whenever I needed to." Lifting her eyes up to meet Kurenai's , she continued, "I-I needed to now." Kurenai simply nodded her head in understanding before she drew, the girl, Hinata, back into a hug. Hesitantly the girl wrapped her arms around Kurenai.

Sasuke audibly scoffed at there display of affection before quietening down as his step sister pinned him with a cold look. Grabbing the girls hand she pulled her inside before gently slamming the door shut. As the girl stood out of place in their home, it seemed Kurenai finally took note of her wet clothes. "Hinata!" she gasped, "You're wet."

"No shit Sherlock." Sasuke muttered, patience thin due to his lack of sleep and paranoia. Hinata looked down at herself, blushing as if ashamed of her inability to keep dry in the rain.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't take an um-umbrella with me, so when i-it started raining uh…" she trailed off embarrassed . Kurenai smiled at her in response. Turning to Sasuke she practically ordered him to take the girl upstairs to give her a spare change of clothes.

"Dumbass…" Kurenai muttered beneath her breath as Sasuke scowled as he stomped up the stairs leading the way as the girl followed him. Shoving his bedroom door open he rummaged through his drawers before uprooting a pair of trousers and a clean shirt and practically shoving them into the startled girl's arms. Their hands briefly touched for a moment and fleeting feeling of warmth jolted through him. Dismissing the feeling and storing it in his brain for later examination, Sasuke stalked out of his room leaving the girl to change in private.

His edgy mood was still in place and the appearance of the plain looking girl had not helped him much either. It felt as if the longer she intruded in their house, the longer Itachi would shy away from his own home. In his sleep deprived mind, Sasuke had begun to blame the girl for his brother's delayed arrival. Standing outside the door he felt restless. How long did it take the girl to change? It had been ages since he had left her. Assuming that she was probably done, Sasuke opened the door without warning.

Before him stood the girl, clad only in her white underwear, her body facing towards him generously. For the umpteenth time that night, Sasuke felt his breath catch in his throat as his eyes stayed glued the body before him. The girl stayed still too, her body tense and unmoving, stock still in shock. His dark eyes roamed her body; all immoral thoughts had flown far from his mind.

This girl standing before him was a work of art. Literally.

Etched all over her body were drawings, beautiful elaborate drawings tattooed onto her alabaster skin. She was like a canvass each drawing an exquisite painting she displayed. There were tattoos along her arm, down her legs, on her stomach and there was even one subtly picking out from behind her hair. But the one that caught his eye was the one that was etched on the left side of her chest right above her left breast.

It was drawing of a pair of twin angels; one black, the other white. They could both be no bigger than three inches, maybe even shorter, but the detail inputted in them was hard to miss. The black angel twin sat crouched down, head bent towards the ground, her slender arms hugging her knees. Her silhouette black wings shrouded most of her body from view. Her twin, the white angel, stood tall and erect; like her twin, her arms were wrapped around her, her gaze upward as her white wings veiled her slightly without completely cutting her off from view. Both their faces were hidden from view but sadness emanated from there beings yet there was a slight difference between their expressions. The black angel's sadness seemed tinged with desolation, loss and grief. The white angel's sadness though as pure as her twins seemed to have an underlying hope within it. They were both positioned back to back and with the use of some drawing technique, they appeared to be drawn on paper instead of skin…Two pretty paper angel twins.

It was her coughing that yet again, broke him from his trance, looking her in the eye he noticed the embarrassed expression on face. Without saying a word, the boy walked out of the room, refusing to look back at the Canvass girl.

A frustrated sigh was heard from outside the bedroom.

_!_

**A.N: **this is a little section off chapter one of my new story. Please read and review, if I get a favourable response I'll post up the full chapter. P.S my other stories? Yea, don't worry I'm not dead...there shall soon be a revival!


	2. The Weaver and The Child

A.N: Well, I'm back and here's chapter two of Ink Child... Sorry for the long wait but, I've not been very inspired of late. Even this chapter I feel is quite forced. I want to thank everyone who reviewed; your words have really encouraged me! Thanks a bunch. Have a cookie all of you (:::) ! When I first posted this story, I did it on a whim, a leap of faith really. It had been sitting on my computer for awhile and I just wanted to see how people would react to it. I'm really happy because all the feedback has been positive. 

Enjoy the read, and sorry for the rubbish chapter. It certainly wasn't worth the wait...

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto... I sure wish I did though..._ Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars, I could really use a wish right now, wish right nooOow..._

Ink child

Chapter 2: The Weaver and the Naked Child

"_Pick one, knit two and drop"_

_The ancient weaver sings_

_The naked child in the corner sat_

"_Pick one, knit two and drop"_

_The needles clap one together-_

_Applaud the weaver's art_

_The child naked in the corner_

_Shrinks - vulnerable and weak_

_It's hard to tell the colour of-_

_The weaver's clothes and work,_

_Some view it black, some other's white_

_Conscience depicts the shade..._

!

He hadn't moved from the kitchen since the first raindrop had fallen- he simply stood there transfixed by Precipitations symphonic wailing. By now her melody had picked up tempo- her gentle crying turn into violently raucous sobbing. As he looked out the nearest window- which so happened to be the door that led to the back yard- he swore he could see Precipitation's silhouette across the sky. She stood there, shoulders crouched, her long tendrils of hair splaying across the sky as clouds with fists tightly clenched by her sides- teardrops literally pouring from her endless eyes. She was a beautiful yet heart wrenching sight at the same time.

_Really... a faceless gorgeous woman in the sky,_ he thought. He smiled;nowadays it seemed his musings were getting the best of him. As a child his imagination had been wild and vivid- he had assumed it would have been subdued as he got older, perhaps not.

Still staring at the sky and the rain which by now was pelting down on the earth so hard it sounded like tiny flies making full force kamikaze dives towards the world- Precipitation's symphony evolved into an unpleasant cacophony of noise.

It was at times like this when he was younger that his older sister would sit him on her lap as they both stared out the window together. She would then continue her story about the three sisters Weather.

It was a well known fact that Precipitation cried a lot- she couldn't help it with her big heart and all- but sometimes her sadness became so hysterically morose that, for a blind moment her cries became less cleansing and redeeming- turning more reproachful and punishing. Her tears- the rain- were like whips beating the people angrily begging them to repent. It seemed even she with her endless love and abundant kindness could not understand the wickedness and complexity of the human ways. Why everyone could not work towards happiness was beyond her. It was at this time when her thoughts became so negative, so morbid, that she, Precipitation- the bearer of the world's pain- briefly went insane, for she was always on the brink of insanity, and lashed out her frustration...

He chuckled at the memory; his older sister really enjoyed personifying the weather, because if he remembered correctly the majority of her bedtime stories revolved around the three sisters Weather. And as he looked out his window he could kind of see why the weather had appealed to his sister...

!

Almost immediately as Neji Hyuga walked into the house he knew something was amiss.

A four storey house, it wasn't too extravagant- in fact it looked like any other house on the street, only subtle hints about the house might suggest the family was a little better off than the average family in the neighbourhood. The subtle snub appearing in the form of their designer garden, their pure gold doorbell, the smaller apartment at the side which housed their resident house cleaners and the slight upturn of all the features of the house- the house itself seeming to smirk slightly.

It was around midday; school had let out maybe two hours or so, give or take. He had been kept back because of a Student Council Meeting- of which he was the secretary (only the Head boy or girl could be president of the Student Council, a small fact that irked Neji slightly)- which had dragged on longer than intended. Usually when he came home he could sense, almost physically feel, her presence- that timid mousy presence that seemed determined to try to shirk away from him, trying its hardest to be swallowed by the earth- but, today it was different... The house had felt quite empty as soon as he walked through the door. Sure, there was the hustle and bustle of the house help but their meagre existences didn't count- at least, not in Neji's book.

She was supposed to be at home by now.

It _did_ normally take her a while to get home; after all she did have to make that several mile long journey back home on foot (after he had bribed their chauffer to stop picking her up from school). But, even so she had always come home after an hour- an hour and a half at the latest- early enough to not arouse his father's suspicion. It had been two hours... surely she would have made her way home by now; she wasn't part of any sports groups- she was physically retarded, no hand-eye co-ordination whatsoever- so she couldn't have been at a practice. She wasn't a member of any committee or group of any kind- she was far too shy and self-conscious for that- so couldn't have been at a meeting so... _where was she?_

Dropping his messenger bag at the foot of the stairs, he quickly thundered up them- eager to check her room, eager to prove his intuition wrong. But even as he treaded up the stairs he knew he was right- the signs were everywhere. Her bag was nowhere in sight, she usually had it sprawled somewhere in the hallway, hastily opened halfway. Her shoes- those scruffy beat up white-turned-greyish brown trainers she insisted on wearing- were not chucked carelessly by the stair case. The subtle scent of her that lingered on the walls (for she always touched the walls she walked by, almost as if they were guiding her, supporting her... as if she were blind) was stale from not being renewed by her touch.

Shoving her bedroom door open he half expected to see her but, instead his eyes met with her unkempt room- her _empty _unkempt room. With her clothes scattered about and the remnants of her piggy bank scattered haphazardly on the wooden floor, it was all clear to Neji.

She had run away.

The members of the house help muttered silently under the breaths to one another, however they made sure not to breathe a word whenever the young master was around. Usually being around him was like walking on eggshells, however today- they were probably safer had they been bounding up and down a field of landmines. However they could not deny the fact that there was an excitement abuzz all round the house and try as they might they could not suppress. Hinata, the young Madame of the house had run away. To where? Only God knew but, she was gone. It was only a matter of time before the dark well hidden secrets of the household would come tumbling out, they supposed...

And Neji knew this too but as he spoke on the phone to his father that night- for his father was away in Paris on business trip- he lied, (he needed to delay the inevitable) and said that Hinata was fine, happy and safe even though he himself doubted his words. He sealed his tall tale by telling his father that Hinata was too tired to speak, and as he hung up the phone, he all but prayed that Hinata would turn up tomorrow.

If not... he didn't want to think about it

!

_...The weaver knits (a people pleaser)_

_And ugly cloth is beautiful sown_

_The child naked in the corner-_

_Fidgets- wary of the weaver's song_

_The child stands up on shaky feet_

_Finding within a renewed strength_

_The weaver frets, but panic subsides-_

_And the innocent child is swiftly clothed_

_At first the weaver's cloth feels snug-_

_But the child is still quite wary_

_For although clothed, the child is still naked_

_Simply a naked child, just hastily covered_

_And then the clothes begin to prick_

_The naked child then cries with pain-_

_And the weaver sings its ancient song_

"_Pick one, knit two and drop."_

_The weaver knits; the child suffers_

_Suffocating in the prickly cotton_

_The weaver smiles at its crafty work_

_At the Truth tangled in its web of lies_

"_Pick one, knit two and drop;_

_Will my lies ever stop?_

_Who says the truth shall set you free_

_When the truth itself is caught?_

_Tell a lie then, tell another-_

_For Truth is naked and exposed_

_Why leave yourself so vulnerable?_

_Take comfort in your deception!"_

!

Hinata's face still burned from the event of a few moments ago.

One minute she had been taking off her wet clothes, spreading the sopping clothes on the radiator so that they could dry, and then the next she was being ogled by the annoyed black haired boy who had opened the house door for her.

It felt like ages as she watched helplessly paralysed to the spot as his dark eyes roamed her body. She wrapped her arms her body now at the thought. She was so stupid! Why hadn't she done something! Any other girl would have. She should've slapped him; she should've yelled at him, thrown something at him, she should've turned around for Pete's sake! Anything to make him stop staring. But...

She hadn't ..._why..._

Was it because the way he had stared at her made her feel like one of the many beautiful paintings she had seen? Was it because his eyes seemed to hold the same awe one had when staring at something divine? What he had seen, held a deeper meaning to her, a meaning he probably didn't even know of but the way he stared at her... it made her feel accepted, loved, invaluable.

By no means was she happy that he had peeked at her, nor was she grateful for the fact he had stared at her near naked body for so long- her feminine dignity and pride felt slightly wounded- she was embarrassed as hell.

Snapping from her daze she quickly wore the clothes he had given her- she quickly pulled them on; just in case he decided he wanted a second showing. Once she had pulled on the clothes, she calmed her beating heart. Making sure that the long sleeves covered her arm and that her hair shrouded her neck, she steeped out of the door only to see a closed fist.

Sasuke was becoming impatient again... For fuck's sake he had just walked in on the girl while she was nearly naked- shouldn't that have been some incentive for her to hurry her ass up! He felt his ears heat up slightly at the thought...He felt bad now, he felt somewhat guilty- he probably shouldn't have walked into the room without knocking.

Oh well, what was done was done. No use crying over spilt milk, as... _people who liked using proverbs would say. Freaks that they were_, Sasuke snubbed inwardly.

He didn't care that he was being insensitive, he was tired, Itachi still hadn't comeback and _God dammit_ she was taking forever. Facing the door again, he lifted he arm before fisting his hand ready to knock on the door. That is until his fist almost met with a pale face.

Putting his hand down sheepishly, he noted that she had covered herself up pretty well. None of her tattoos could be seen. Nodding toward her, he had no intention about talking about what had happened earlier and he hoped to God that she wasn't the confrontational type. With his resolve set, he made toward the stairs before he felt a hand tugging him back.

Aww, hell she _was _confrontational type. God surely hated him.

Turning back to the girl, he waited expectantly for her to talk.

"I..." she paused, taking the initiative because he really didn't want to hear her sobbing a soppy life story filled with rants about the plight of women and what not, Sasuke quickly cut in with a sharp, _Sorry_, even though he didn't sound sorry at all.

She stared at him for a moment in confusion before she spoke again, "Ehh... Thanks?" Nodding his head again Sasuke made towards the stairs before once again he felt the familiar tug on his shirt. Feeling agitated her turned back. "What!" he barked at her. He apologized what did she want now?

"Umm..." she began slightly taken back by his harshness, "Look Sasuke?" she asked uncertainly. He nodded albeit exasperatedly, "Could you please not... What I mean to say is don't...I would." From the look on Sasuke's face she could tell that she was rambling. Closing her eyes she quickly blurted out, "Please Sasuke! Don't tell anyone about what you saw! Especially not Kurenai..."

He stared at her wide- eyed. Was she mad, as if he would tell anyone let alone his older sister. If Kurenai found out what he had done he was going to die... _she'd kill him_. Noticing the confused look on his face, she bent her head low as if ashamed and continued quietly.

"Please don't tell anyone about my... my ink paintings."

He was shocked but he said nothing. Nodding his head, he walked toward the stairs and this time she made no move to stop him. Together they walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where Kurenai was waiting patiently for them. And as she offered them both a cup of hot chocolate, Sasuke couldn't help but become curious about the secrecy that surrounded the girl.

What was so special about her tattoos that she had to hide them?

!

Mr. Ben Gibbles- even he had to scoff at own his name- was more of a mouse than a man but, it was to be expected with a name like his. After all his parents had named him after the rat from the Thriller movie called _"Ben"_;and they had legally changed their surname to "Gibbles" following the death of their most prized possession- their pet zebra mouse Mr. Gibbles (while they were alive both his parents had had a queer interest- more-like obsession- with the rodent-y creatures, heaven knew why), after being compared to the tiny rodents for so long, Mr. Ben Gibbles couldn't stand them.

But back to the crux of the matter...

Mr Ben Gibbles was more of a mouse than a man, even in his own appearance. His thin angular face, was only emphasized by the large square glasses he wore on the bridge of his nose. His beady eyes were framed by thick, fuzzy (like mould) eyebrows that seemed to be drawn down in a constant sombre scowl. Above his mammoth like brows were thin wrinkles caused probably by his constant frowning. His mouth pursed together thinly but once relaxed stretched out to nearly engulf his whole face. His teeth however, were not bucked- he was nearly certain he would have killed himself if they had- but straight and white, so that when he smiled- with that large mouth of his- he almost resembled a coconut that had been freshly cracked opened- the creamy flesh within it gleaming enticingly. In fact out of all his features his teeth were the only things he was proud of. He was short and stout and his back slightly stooped over- but only subtly, one wouldn't notice unless they were paying particular attention to him. Luckily not many people did.

Even his behaviour was a bit _ratty_, so to speak. He enjoyed staying in the shadows away from people and their prying eyes. He liked to horde things, he was selfish with his possessions. And, he always seemed to have to watch his tail for fear that it might be cut off...

It was a dark and dreary night; the godforsaken rain was pelting against his bedroom window so thunderously that Ben was having a rough time falling asleep. Scampering down the hall of his dank apartment, he scuttled into the kitchen before raiding the fridge for something to eat. That was his remedy for a sleepless night- nothing made one feel sleepy more than a satisfyingly full stomach.

Pulling out the necessary ingredients, he made himself a sandwich, slapping on some cheese -_irony_ - on to his sandwich. Opening his wide mouth, he generously took a bite of the sandwich, relishing the feeling of having food in his mouth, before his face quickly twisted in disgust at the rancid taste of said food. _Something had gone off..._

Swallowing the bit of sandwich in his mouth, _no use in letting food go to waste, _he thought, Ben Gibbles opened the sandwich up, and soon he saw the culprit behind the foul taste in his mouth. The ham. It was beginning to get mouldy... much like his eyebrows.

Feeling a movement from his bowels, Ben hastily dropped the sandwich letting it drop carelessly on the floor before silently scurrying into his bathroom. Dropping his pyjama trousers so that they hung round his ankles, he plopped himself down on the toilet seat ready to deposit his load when he noticed something was off. Feeling a presence beside him, he slowly turned his head to his left.

_...Fuck..._

Slowly he moved his head forward and blinked his eyes close. Maybe ham had been worse than he thought- not only was it messing with his bowels but maybe also his mind. Yes, that's it. The gun he thought was pointing at his head was only a rancid ham induced hallucination. Feeling relieved at his revelation, Ben let out a sigh before opening his eyes. Turning his head to the left once again he made to confirm his assumption. He gulped... The gun was still there, still pointing at his head, still mocking him...

Bravely the mouse man lifted his eyes to follow the body of the gun, to the hand that held it, up an arm before finally his eyes landed on the face of his assassin.

He felt his blood run cold. Those red eyes... He thought he'd never see them again. Opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, he blinked a few times before finding his voice. "Hey Itachi," he cursed inwardly as his voice trembled beneath the stoic man's gaze, "What brings you to old Ben's house at this late hour? And how-" he chuckled nervously as the gun remained trained on him, "didjy'a get in? You didn't have to sneak about you know, we're old friends... I woulda let you in!" Even he could tell how fake his voice sounded, surely Itachi could as well. Itachi's eyes curtly flickered to the open bathroom window, which explained how he got in and the slight draft Gibbles was feeling, despite the fact that he was slowly begin to seat under the heated glare of the gun.

There was an awkward silence before Itachi cleared his throat and began to speak. "Don't give me that bull Gibbles, you know exactly why I'm here. After all, I remember specifically seeing you run after I caught you reporting back to your _real_ _friends._"

Suddenly the sound of breaking glass resounded in the bathroom, soon accompanied by a cruching sound as more unwelcome guests forced their way into the mouse man's home. The discomfort deep in his stomach was forgotten as he stared at the new figures that entered his now cramped bathroom.

Staring at their menacing faces, Ben was thankful that he was still on the toilet seat because he had just shitted himself...


End file.
